


Peace of Knife

by Seeking_Chaos



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-12 22:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20572190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeking_Chaos/pseuds/Seeking_Chaos
Summary: Merlin walks in on Harry shaving and it awakens a whole new desire in him.





	Peace of Knife

Merlin awoke in the guest bedroom of Harry's home, a peaceful smile on his face. There was something about being at Harry's that always felt safe and comforting, a feeling he had never gotten anywhere he had lived before, even at Kingsman. Last night had been the first time Harry had invited him to stay over after a long evening spent playing cards and talking. Merlin was determined that it wouldn't be the last.

He knocked on Harry's bedroom door, and after being told to enter, he opened the door and walked in, heading to the open ensuite. "Harry, do you want to go out for--" He stopped short.

It wasn't that Merlin had never noticed how attractive Harry was, or how long his fingers were. He noticed every time he handed Harry something or watched him in the shooting range. But here, with Harry's long fingers wrapped around the handle of a straight razor as he carefully stroked it down his cheeks, coupled with the calm that still surrounded him, it made Merlin's heart race and his stomach feel like it was filled with the butterflies that adorned Harry's walls.

"Hmm?" Harry turned and raised one eyebrow.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out for breakfast," Merlin said, trying not to stare at Harry's hands and not quite succeeding.

"Oh yes. There's a delightful little cafe near here, you'll enjoy it," Harry said, lifting his chin and stroking the razor there as well. His eyes followed Merlin in the mirror.

Merlin swallowed. Harry was bound to notice his staring if he didn't do something.

"Do you think you could teach me how to do that?" He asked, leaning against the doorway.

"Shave?" Harry said, wiping his face off and reaching for the aftershave. "It's not complicated, really." He sounded a bit nervous.

Merlin pressed on. "I'd love to learn from you, though. You seem like you know what you're doing." Appeal to Harry's ego, and he'd do almost anything.

Harry smiled at that, cleaning the razor and preparing it. "Take a seat," he said.

Merlin sat down on the edge of Harry's enormous tub, the butterflies in his gut dancing up a storm at the prospect of Harry's hands on him.

Harry put a warm damp towel on Merlin's face, still seeming nervous. "I've never actually shaved anyone else before," he admitted.

"I trust you," Merlin told him as he removed the towel.

Harry inhaled sharply but didn't say anything. He put the shaving cream on Merlin's face and stepped closer, gripping the razor.

"You want to grip it like this," he said, showing Merlin how he held the razor with three fingers on the back of the blade, pinky resting on the tang, his thumb on the side. He carefully put one hand on Merlin's right cheek while he started to slowly scrape the razor down his cheek. Merlin watched him, breathing slowly, inhaling the scent of Harry's aftershave.

Merlin had never seen Harry seem nervous. He was always cool and collected, even mirthful in his adrenaline highs on missions. And yet now Harry seemed to be even more nervous than Merlin. Even while his hands were calm, his eyes betrayed him, something in them conveying that there was something more to this than Harry having never shaved another man before.

Harry finished Merlin's cheeks and tilted Merlin's head up and to the side. He began to slowly shave downward. His eyes met Merlin's for a long moment and then Merlin realized.

Harry was not nervous about shaving Merlin. He was aroused.

Merlin inhaled deeply through his nose again, his head swimming with the new knowledge that Harry did in fact feel the same way as he.

The butterflies morphed into something sweeter and heavier. The blade scraped down his jaw and Merlin's chest tightened as he kept his eyes locked on Harry's. The blade was so close to his arteries, his jugular, a vulnerability he would never willingly show to any other man but the one in front of him right now. He was almost hypnotized by Harry's movements, his breathing shallow.

Harry finally pulled his eyes away as he began to shave Merlin's lip, but Merlin continued to watch him, anticipation making his spirits soar.

Harry finally pulled back and told Merlin he could rinse his face as he went to clean and strop the razor. Harry seemed tense, shoulders drawn forward and eyes cast downwards. Merlin took the liberty of borrowing Harry's aftershave and applying it while he watched him, calculating.

He wasn't going to let Harry run from this. Not when they both wanted it.

"Harry," he said, stepping up behind the man and putting his hands on the counter on either side of him. "We should talk."

Harry tensed even further. "Merlin," his voice tight and almost anguished, "We can't."

"Why not?" Merlin probed. "Do you not want me?"

"I.. I do. It's just--" He broke off.

Merlin grabbed Harry's arm and gently turned him around to face him. "Tell me," he asked softly.

Harry bit his lip as he tried to find the words. "I like knives," he said, finally meeting Merlin's eyes. "And I like you."

Merlin considered this. "You like holding a blade on me," he said.

"Yes, but also-- You trust me."

"With my life."

Harry swallowed hard. "I like that too."

Merlin pulled Harry closer and pressed their lips together, clasping one of Harry's hands in his while he wrapped the other around him. Harry relaxed into the kiss and placed his free hand on Merlin's throat, feeling his pulse quicken.

Merlin could feel Harry hardening against him and Merlin ached with his own desire. He finally forced himself to pull away. "Why don't you show me your knives?" He suggested.

Harry's eyes lit up with understanding. They walked back out to the bedroom and he pulled a long box out from under his bed. He unlocked it and lifted the lid to reveal an array of gleaming knives, with beautifully carved handles.

Harry reached out and picked up a tactical knife with blue monarch wings painted on the handle. "This one is my favourite," he said.

He put the knife on the bedside table and began to get undressed. Merlin was so engrossed in watching him that he almost forgot to do the same, quickly shucking his shirt and his trousers before Harry came over and tugged him onto the bed with a laugh.

Harry pushed him down by the shoulders and framed his waist with his knees, his smile as bright. He tugged Merlin's pants and reached for the bedside drawer for the supplies, never taking his eyes off Merlin.

Merlin felt simultaneously breathless and like he had never been more alive, wanting so desperately for more of Harry. As Harry worked Merlin open, he picked up the knife with his other hand and casually held it beside Merlin. Merlin was torn between wanting to watch Harry and wanting to look at how Harry's fingers curved around the knife.

When Harry had finished, he switched the knife back to his other hand. Using the flat edge, he tilted Merlin's chin up. "Can you hold still for me?" He asked.

"Yes," Merlin agreed immediately. "Yes, Harry."

Harry smiled again. He turned the knife and dragged the sharp edge slowly across the soft part of Merlin's throat. Merlin didn't move, though his breathing quickened.

"You're so good," Harry breathed. He dragged down Merlin's chest, tracing over his ribs and the tight muscles in his stomach all the way to his hip and back again. "So good," Harry repeated, sounding as breathless as Merlin felt. "Are you ready?"

Merlin nodded assent and Harry quickly rolled on a condom and slicked himself up. He pushed himself in slowly and they both gasped, Harry's fingers twitching around the handle of the knife. He ducked forward and briefly pressed his lips to Merlin's before he started to rock his hips. He brought the knife back up to Merlin's throat and held it there, keeping him still while he thrusted, Merlin willing to let him do anything.

Harry's eyes burned wildly as he realized this. "Merlin," he gasped. "Merlin." He briefly pressed the knife down the slightest bit further before turning the blade to the flat edge. "Touch yourself, Merlin."

Merlin obeyed, his eyes never leaving Harry's. The firm weight of the steel on his neck seemed to be the only thing holding him down as he orgasmed and he drifted, weightless.

Harry soon followed, collapsing to the side. He dropped the knife on the other side of the bed.

Merlin turned his head to face him. Harry stared at him for a long moment. "You do trust me," he wondered, still in awe.

"I told you. If I can't trust you with my life, who can I trust? You are the most competent man I know."

They kissed again slowly before Harry got up to get them cleaned up. Merlin laid back on the bed and picked up the knife, tracing over the design. His heart felt as light as the wings of the brilliant blue butterfly, but he decided the gleam of the knife had nothing on the light in Harry's eyes when he suggested they go to the cafe for lunch, having long missed breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Harry's knife was inspired by [this one](https://www.wholesaleblades.com/Blue-Monarch-Butterfly-Wing-Tactical-EDC-Spring-Assisted-Knife_p_69502.html).


End file.
